


A Glimpse of Skin

by EmilaWanKenobi



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 20:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1661246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilaWanKenobi/pseuds/EmilaWanKenobi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a glimpse of Ewan's tummy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Glimpse of Skin

**Author's Note:**

> If we can't have hot, sweaty, half-naked Jedi

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## A Glimpse of Skin

### by Emila-Wan Kenobi (emila_wan@yahoo.com)

Feedback: Oh, give it to me baby ... emila_wan@yahoo.com

Archive: M_A. Others please ask.

Category: PWP

Pairing: O/A, a hint of Q/O

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: none

Summary: Inspired by a glimpse of Ewan's tummy.

Disclaimer: George Lucas is da man. He owns everything. We just play.

Warnings: none

Series: none

Note: If we can't have hot, sweaty, half-naked Jedi workouts in the films, at least we get a glimpse of hot, sweaty actors working out in Hyperspace.

Things rarely took Anakin by surprise. He was good at hiding his emotions and reactions.

It was all the more humiliating then, to feel Obi-Wan's blade kiss the side of his neck and realize he had stopped defending himself -- stopped moving altogether -- because of a glimpse of skin.

They had been working hard, sparring free-form in one of the Temple's shielded dojos. Anakin had been a Jedi for ten years, and in that time he'd finally managed to hone his skills enough to hold his own against his master. He was confident in his talent to the point of arrogance -- he knew this about himself -- but just lately he'd come to realize that Obi-Wan also deserved every bit of his reputation as a legendary swordsman and the only Jedi to kill a Sith in living memory. This realization made it even more rewarding when Anakin managed to score a point or succeed in a feint. He'd yet to win an entire match, but he'd come close.

And today ... today they were both fit, relaxed, at the top of their form. They'd been at it for more than two hours, and Anakin felt as if he could go on forever. The Force flowed around them and through them like a drug, heightening their perception, until every breath and heartbeat and flicker of eyelash shone like a beacon to their senses. Anakin felt Obi-Wan's satisfaction in him, his devotion to him as his master and friend, and his pure joy in pushing his body to its limits.

Looking back, perhaps Anakin's problem had begun because Obi-Wan smiled.

Obi-Wan rarely smiled for anyone any more, rarer still for his apprentice. But today he was grinning, and his joy was infectious. He was a comely man in any case, but in the Force he *glowed.* They'd both stripped down to leggings and singlets. Oddly enough, if they'd been bare-chested Anakin would have thought nothing of it, but a peek of skin turned out to be far more erotic than he could have imagined.

Obi-Wan spun, parried, reversed to parry again, spun, lifted his arms and whipped his lightsaber behind his back to block an aggressive move. In that tiny moment \-- an eternity to Anakin's heightened senses -- a sliver of Obi-Wan's belly was exposed, about a hands' breadth of pale skin, rippling with muscle but still soft, covered with ginger hair that continued on down past his waistband. Anakin's eyes kept going, down to the generous bulge between his master's legs, and suddenly his mind went blank. A lightning bolt of pure lust sizzled through him, setting his blood on fire.

A split-second later, Obi-Wan's blade set his neck on fire.

Anakin shouted and drew away, covering the burn with his palm. Obi-Wan deactivated his 'saber and stepped forward. "Let me see," he said. His voice was husky, and the sound of it sent another jolt through Anakin's jangled nerves. He was getting an erection and he couldn't stop it, couldn't make his heart quit racing, couldn't get his ragged breathing under control. He wondered why he'd never seen it before, the way his master moved, like sex on two legs.

Obi-Wan was inches away now, filling the air with the scent of clean sweat, brushing his fingers over the burn and flooding Anakin's body with even more Force energy as he healed him and oh, *OH,* that was almost more than he could stand. Anakin heard himself whimper.

Obi-Wan looked at him, eyes green in the artificial light. "What's wrong?"

Anakin turned away, desperate to hide the now-prominent bulge in his leggings. "Nothing, Master."

"Look at me, Padawan."

Anakin turned again and met Obi-Wan's gaze. Obi-Wan's eyes never wavered from his, but Anakin knew he could see everything, could sense it in the Force. They were still wide open to each other. He didn't know why he'd thought he could hide from his master.

Anakin closed his eyes in embarrassment.

There was a long pause, during which Anakin's emotions wheeled crazily from a wish to die to an impulse to jump his master and be done with it to an urge to laugh and cry simultanously.

"Qui-Gon and I had a similar moment, you know," Obi-Wan said. Anakin opened his eyes. Obi-Wan gave him a gentle smile. "When I was about your age. Actually, a bit younger."

Anakin swallowed. A hot flush crept up his neck, though whether it was from his own predicament or the thought of his master as a young man feeling *that* for Qui-Gon Jinn, he couldn't say. "What ... what did you do?"

"Pretty much what you're doing now. Feeling a fool and wanting to melt through the floor."

Obi-Wan's smile seemed to tease him. Anakin hated to be teased.

"And what did *he* do?" Anakin demanded, suddenly angry.

Obi-Wan stared at him for a moment, nreadable. "This," Obi-Wan said at last, and moved with Force-enhanced speed. He grabbed Anakin by the arms, propelled him up against the wall, pressed his body full-length against him, ground his belly against the bulge in Anakin's leggings.

Anakin gulped air, still defiant despite the urge to arch into Obi-Wan's touch. "And then what?" he gasped.

Obi-Wan leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "Then he kissed me until my brain melted and I came in my pants."

"Guh ..."

"Is that what you want from me, Padawan?"

"Uh ..."

"Yes or no, Anakin." Obi-Wan pressed harder into him, and Anakin felt something stiff and hot grind into his thigh.

Anakin couldn't speak, couldn't get the words out, and anyway, he had no idea what he might say if he *could* talk. He shook his head, frustrated.

Obi-Wan released him as if he'd been scalded and took a step back. "I'm sorry, Anakin," he said. "That was ... there was no excuse for that." He turned away. "Please forgive me."

"Master!" Anakin cried, and lunged after Obi-Wan's retreating form. He circled him, dropped to his knees, and threw his arms around Obi-Wan's waist. He pressed his face into Obi-Wan's belly. "Don't leave."

Obi-Wan's hands descended sift through Anakin's hair. Quietly, he said, "Whatever you want of me, Padawan, I will give you if I can."

"I want this." Anakin rubbed his cheek against the bulge in Obi-Wan's leggings.

Obi-Wan moaned, and the sound drove Anakin's arousal higher still. Anakin took the bulge into his mouth and breathed hot air onto it. Obi-Wan's grip on his hair tightened. "Force, Anakin," Obi-Wan breathed. "Don't stop."

Anakin lifted the singlet and pressed kisses all over Obi-Wan's belly, lingering at the navel to dip his tongue inside. Obi-Wan's breathing had become rough, and it sent a thrill through Anakin to know he could make his master feel this way. He rubbed a palm along the length of Obi-Wan's shaft. Obi-Wan moaned again, and shifted restlessly.

Anakin sat back on his heels, drawing Obi-Wan with him, until his master lay atop him on the workout mat.

Obi-Wan's face hovered over his, hesitating. "What do you want, Anakin?" "I want you to kiss me until I come in my pants."

Obi-Wan smiled. Then Obi-Wan's mouth descended on his, demanding and skillful. Anakin had never been kissed that way, as if he were something to be devoured. Obi-Wan's tongue stroked into his mouth, and Anakin writhed, thrusting and moaning uncontrollably.

Obi-Wan moved atop him, sliding their clothed erections together. He pulled back and slid his tongue along Anakin's ear. "Wait for me," he urged.

Anakin panted, holding back, as Obi-Wan ground against him for a few more strokes. Suddenly Obi-Wan's whole body shuddered, and he cried out softly, "Oh, yes, yes," before taking Anakin's mouth again in a rough, frantic kiss.

That was all it took. Anakin shouted as his body convulsed. Wave after wave of pleasure ripped through him. After a moment, he realized he was marking Obi-Wan's back with scratches, and he stilled.

Obi-Wan rolled off him, sighing, and lay on his back, one arm over his head. "Is that what you wanted, Padawan?"

"For now," Anakin said, and chuckled. "Give me a few minutes to find my brain and I'll thank you properly."

Obi-Wan grunted. He didn't seem inclined to move, so Anakin lay next to him, letting his thoughts wander.

"Master?"

"Yes, Anakin?"

"What did Master Qui-Gon do after you came in your pants?"

Obi-Wan was silent for a moment. "He took me back to his rooms and we rutted like beasts all night long."

"Guh ..."

  
end


End file.
